Page 18 of Day of the Storm

He shook his head. Then nodded. “Hell, I don’t know. My last serious relationship was more than three years ago. She accused me of being in love with someone else. And it was true.”

It was her. It was always and forever going to be Autumn Jane. That was when he’d realized the true extent of his feelings. “And that’s when I realized…”

“Realize what?”

“That maybe I was in love with someone else. You.” Sean took the biggest risk of his life. He took two steps toward her and slipped his arms around her. She wore his pajamas. Including the pants, though she had rolled them up at the waist. He felt the bunched fabric beneath his hands. She smelled like his shampoo. Her hair was wet and curled wildly. Her face was completely bare of makeup.

She had never looked more perfect to him. “The reason I have not had a serious relationship in three years is because I knew she was right that day. I am in love with someone else. Or, at least, the potential to be in love with you damn well exists. The only woman I want to be with is you.”

20

He meant it.A. J. stared into his eyes and knew that he meant it. Sean wasn’t lying to her. His hands held her firmly against him. She could feel his heartbeat racing against her. There was a vulnerability she couldn’t mistake. “Sean…”

She did it. She took the next step, the next risk. A. J. stretched up and pressed her lips against his.

This was for real.

She wouldn’t call what she felt for him love. Everything felt too new for that.

But there were some seriously deep feelings rushing through her at the moment. Feelings she owed to herself to explore more in detail.

And she wanted that. Wanted him. Trusted him.

Sean…Sean would never hurt her. Not deliberately.

A. J. pulled back, her gaze glued to his. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

“No. We don’t.”

But six years…that was a long time. She didn’t want to wait even a minute longer to find out what could be between them.

It had taken a tornado to knock her into his arms.

She wasn’t going to waste the opportunity when it presented itself.

One of her hands rose, almost of its own accord.

She toyed with the top button of the borrowed pajamas. His gaze followed the movement.

His breath caught. He trembled against her.

This man wanted her.

And she wanted him.

A. J. deliberately flicked open the top button. And then the next. And then he was grabbing for her, and she was grabbing for him.

They somehow ended up on his couch, in much the same position they’d been in beneath the rubble.

His lips were on hers. His hands made quick work of the pajamas.

A. J. wasn’t going anywhere.

Not for a long time.

Probably not for forever.

She was exactly where she wanted to be.